Disarm Daughter
by casualtees
Summary: Maisie Peverell was not normal, and whether that be the pure-blooded wizardry that ran through her veins or the fact that her last name held an entire tale of chaos and catastrophe, the teenage girl wasn't sure. The surname Peverell had a legacy, and it was not one that a wizard wanted to be tied closely in relations with given the nature of the tragic stories. However, Maisie was.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** _I do not own any material that has been used in the creation of the movie adaption series or book series, Harry Potter. All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling for making my childhood a great existence. The only thing that I have rights to is the story of Death's Daughter, and the plot that does not follow directly with the movie/book lines. This story will be suited to the movies as opposed to the books, mainly because there is so many details in the book that I would rather be able to portray myself, so the movie gives me a bit more freedom._

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 **DISARM DAUGHTER**

 **PROLOGUE**

 **DEATH BORE A DAUGHTER.** It was a conflicting tale, one of which was told on the darkest of days to children that believed they could understand the world without their parent's supporting hand. It wasn't there to pose a place of hope in hearts as a fairy tale, but as a nightmare to those that didn't understand the world that they were inhabiting. It was told to bestow fear. It was told to children to assure that they understood the dangers of the world that they would grow up to exist in; and, eventually, by the time they reached the age where they could understand that the tale was not just a bedtime story, their lives had drastically changed into an intolerable sea of questions. Those that knew who the exquisite woman was, the ones that had been raised into a plagued terror that kept them awake at night, understood the gravity that love had. Those children understood the ways in which Death manipulated his daughter, controlled her, and filled her to the brink of her being with all of the desires she needed to breathe except the essential: Death, as vicious of a creation he was, did not give his daughter a heart.

On her sixteenth year of existence, the young woman asked for the very thing that she had seen resting in the chests of mortals. A heart, so fragile in fixture, was the one piece that had kept Death's Daughter his own divine foundation. Had she been given a heart, the woman would be greeted into the living with a beating inside of her body that he could not control. He would lose her, and the selfish being that he be, Death could not allow such a thing. The daughter eventually grew restless, the black void left inside of her beginning to consume all that she was, for Death's Daughter was not strong like her father. While there was nothing to grip onto with Death, his daughter had been unsheltered from emotions. His daughter, the delicate piece of art that she was, watched those that lived among a world happiness with envy. Piece by piece, the more that Death's Daughter watched, the more emotions she began to feel. Without knowledge, the young woman was growing her own heart from the love other people shared for one another.

Death's Daughter felt joy for the very first time when a new mother caressed her son's face with such adoration in her eyes. She felt grief for the very first time upon watching an elderly father say goodbye to his daughter right before Death consumed his soul, a woman that had forced herself to contain the tears that were in desperation to fall from her face. She felt envy for the very first time when her naive eyes caught sight of a man bending down on one knee, saying the words to a woman in front of him that stared ahead as if he were her entire world. She felt passion when she watched a boy, no older than her own self, aspire his biggest dreams with no fear of the world that may be out there to face him. She felt happiness. She felt lust. She felt disappointment. She felt anger. She felt doubt. She felt every human emotion that someone would face in their life, all but one: love. She had seen it, but she wondered why she could not feel it. That single emotion had been what she craved since the beginning, and it was the one thing holding her back from facing humanity, facing Life, with open arms.

And, at once, she found it. Ignotus Peverell was one of the few that believed his wisdom could play a force against her father. The man, along with his two other brothers, had forged a way across the bridge that had been created for the sole purpose of luring unwilling participants to a cruel demise— a trap, one might say, that had always gone in Death's favor until the night that Death, and his daughter, had been exposed to a world of beyond the belief of plain humanity. With the use of magic, the obstacle that had been created for no victory gained three victors. Her father, a man of great power, felt as if he had been cheated by the Peverell brothers. Death's Daughter, a woman that had finally seen what deception looked like, knew that her father was not to be trusted when he was wronged. That, along with his mistreatment of her existence, was the very reason she went against Death's demands and escorted the youngest and the wisest Peverell to a gift much greater than the other two requested. While the eldest riveted in power and the utmost control that a wand constructed to hold the darkest of magic, and while the middle Peverell let himself fall into a sleepless plan to resurrect the only woman that ever captured his heart, Ignotus Peverell had wished for something much smaller in power, but so much larger in wisdom.

The Deathly Hallows had been fashioned on the eve of that dark night, creating three of the most deadly weapons that one could possess at a single time. Death's Daughter followed the three, much like her father, hidden in the darkness of the days and hours. The more that she watched, the stronger that she felt towards the youngest Peverell because, while her father, so haunted in his own demise, could not find the man, his daughter was effortless in her unaided journey. Eventually, the wish that Death refused to grant her for so many years had been given, not by magic or by a man that could never love himself, but by her own doing. Death's Daughter had produced her own heart by the raw and beautiful emotion she felt for a man that her father could never stand, and thus had begun the tragedy that the exquisite woman faced.

Death had caught up to the other two Peverell brothers, much like predicted. Antioch Peverell grew ruthless in the authority he had been given from his conquering fate of Death, the Elder Wand forging into a weapon used against his life no matter the hold he had on it. The brute arrogance that he carried on his shoulders was the ending to his tale, and Antioch Peverell had found himself alongside Death in a world where magic as a shield was but a hope. Cadmus Peverell was a man that never truly got over his heart, something that he found himself settling on common ground with Death's Daughter. However, Cadmus had let his intentions of love get the better of him, believing that he could change the balance of those that have died and those that continue to breathe; and, even though he had been reunited with the first woman he ever gave his heart to, there was a veil between them that Cadmus could not separate. While he could see her, and while he could hear her, the man could not watch as she drove him mad with the cold life that she shouldered his way. The broken organ that had split down the middle was the ending to his tale, and Cadmus Peverell had found himself alongside Death in a world where he could finally be with the woman he gave up his life for.

Ignotus Peverell was the last of the brothers to part from the world, and while his death had been handed over by his own understanding will, the fate that he decided was not the tragedy in the story. The woman that he began a loving existence with, the woman that he bore a child of his own with, was the one that had been truly deceived by her father. Death's Daughter believed that she could escape her father's persistent plot for revenge against the daughter that disobeyed his plans and left him to live alone, all for a man that had wronged him. That, however, had not been the case.

The heart that she had been so eager to receive had become her own undoing, and sentenced her to an eternity of suffering. Death's Daughter was given the one thing that she had before she entered the world of mortality— a never-ending continuation of time. While that had not seemed terrible upon first glance, it became clearer the moment they understood that Death's Daughter was forced to live an eternity with a heart that was irreparably broken the moment her father took the love of her life, and everyone in her bloodline soon after when their time came. The woman was cursed to watch in a dark shadow of existence as everyone she ever loved was taken away by Death, each of them following the same fate of allowing their heart to bleed for a love that would always leave.

The ultimate moral of the tragic tale was to ensure that young children today remained understanding of the consequences that came with love, and while it was assured that the story of Death's Daughter was nothing more than a bedtime read, they had not realized that there still remained a descendant of the Peverell line that carried the malediction name. A daughter, so eccentric and beautiful in her simple way, was born on the Eve of Christmas Day. A daughter, so conniving and controlling, was raised into a world of wizardry, her mother and father both possessing the power of magic. A daughter, so lonely and cruel, was cursed from the moment she let out a single breath to fall madly in love with someone that could never have enough of himself to return it. A daughter, so powerful and bruised, was introduced into the world with the title of Maisie Peverell.

" _Slytherin!"_

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 _Welcome to another story where I introduce you to my inability to control my emotions, thus creating a fanfiction that will inevitably ruin my life with never-ending feels. Some of you might remember this story, except it had a different name and my writing was preschool work at it's finest hour._ _ _Naturally, Death was just a metaphor created for the story of the Deathly Hallows, unless it's something that you think actually happened which I wouldn't hold you against. For those of you that need the background beneath a metaphor, it's basically about a woman who grew up unloved by her father, which meant that she never really understood how to love. He was a powerful wizard, one that had always wanted to keep his daughter by his side because he knew that his traits of magic would soon be passed down to her. However, his daughter was curious and began to see more of the world, and eventually stumbled upon Ignotus Peverell. The two of them fell in love, had a child, and her father detested the idea of his daughter having happiness so he put a curse on her name and anyone who carried the Peverell name. That's basically the short, non-metaphorical version of the story. I, personally, think that believing Death is real and actually had a daughter makes the situation a lot more realistic.__

 _ _ _I hope that you guys enjoy this story. It took me forever to make sure that the prologue was right, given that Maisie's entire life is holed around the Peverell family. Cara Delevingne is cast as the faceclaim for Maisie, mainly because there is something about Cara that can easily be perceived as mischievous and, well, Slytherin. I can't wait to start writing more, and I'm holding out on you guys thinking I did an acceptable job at justifying the story behind Death's Daughter. Much love!___


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** _I would, first off, like to state that I am in no way, shape, or form familiar in the slightest with British slang. I literally am about as country as a person can get, so that's probably on a completely different level of understanding from those that are actually from Britain. Just be aware that if this story begins to sound more American than British, that's the main reason why. Also, the first 3,000 words of this chapter consist of background information about Maisie's first four years at Hogwarts, which means that this story is going to begin during Order of the Phoenix. When the characters are introduced, there will be more in-depth detail about her relationship with them. Like I said before, this is going to follow directly with the dialogue of the movie as opposed to the books considering I have more freedom with the details instead of just rephrasing what J.K. Rowling wrote herself in the books. I hope you guys like this story! I'm incredibly excited to start writing this!_

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 **DISARM DAUGHTER**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **MAISIE PEVERELL** was the perfect image of a catatonic being created by the implemented design humanity had for a person. The person that she was could not be a saint, but the idea of following a life of a sinner meant having an idea of what that definition was. The world was full of liars and people with self-entitled masks created for the pure thrill of satisfaction. In every circumstance that followed an exposed lie, someone was hurt in the process. Another person in the world had been given the clear picture of who they were interacting with truly was, and a large majority of that time, the picture was not as beautiful of a making as it used to be. Maisie, after several years of existing, came to the conclusion that her picture would never be beautiful. It would always consist of vivid and bruised lines upon a canvas with cracks in the foundation, and the colors would never be as bright and bold as someone may desire. Upon a further diagnosed analysis, Maisie realized that, by the end of someone's life, they would also become the same canvas that she was. The one she displayed just happened to smear much sooner than most others.

The story about who she was remained very simple: Maisie Peverell was given an extraordinary ability to do things that others cannot, and while most would find that a gift, she found it to be a curse. Wizardry had become the entire fault of why Maisie was cold to the touch, and why the teenage girl had become so adamant for the four years of her schooling at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to find a way to detest every person that attended the institution. Spells and potions had been the reason for her mother's death, and Hogwarts had been the catalyst of her father's demise. The way that she saw it, anyone who had a connection to the world beyond a normal, muggle existence was setting themselves up to the uttermost ends of their own life. The choice of her connection to the extraordinary world that Hogwarts provided had not been a choice at all, but an expectation that she could not decline— not with the last name she wore, one that held power by even the slightest touch of tongues.

Her mother, Andromeda Kindler, had been murdered two days after Maisie was born. She didn't find out who was the cause of her mother's death until she was eleven years old when Albus Dumbledore showed up on her front door step, supplying her with the answers that her foster family could not provide given their inclined positions from higher authorities and a letter of acceptance into Hogwarts. Her father, Marcellus Peverell, had been murdered eleven months after her mother. It was stated that, in an aided attempt to help Tom Riddle with his plans to defeat those that sided with the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix, her father had given his life to the theory of sovereignty that Lord Voldemort created. Marcellus Peverell was a Death Eater, and because of his decision to become one, he lost the love of his life in the process. Andromeda was a weakness to him, and her father had been one of Voldemort's closest allies while the first Wizarding War occurred. It was expected for the dark wizard to want to evade any possibility of Marcellus leaving him to begin a life with his fiancee and, newly-born, daughter.

Maisie learned the day that Dumbledore showed up to her foster family's house that, while the first Wizarding War was happening, her life had been in the hands of the only person her father ever completely trusted. Severus Snape was, not only, an insufferable man that cared little for most, but he was the very last tie that she had to the truth about what happened to her parents. During the first war, his involvement with the Death Eaters became something of a questionable loyalty, and from the stories that she has heard, the man finally sided with the Order of the Phoenix. The choice he made that day was the very reason Maisie was still alive. Snape and her father had both been outcasts at Hogwarts, a common ground she shared with them, and became a crutch to the other from their first year at the school to the very last time they saw one another the moment Marcellus Peverell handed the last thing he loved in the world over to the last man he trusted. Unlike Snape, her father had not been given a choice on his siding with Voldemort. It was the life of a Death Eater, or no life at all. Despite the hatred that Maisie should feel towards her father, all she felt was a hollowness that she knew could never be cemented whole.

Her first year at Hogwarts came in as much of a blur as it had for most, but due to the fact that her foster mother was a witch, it had not been as hard to register as it had for muggle-borns. Maisie supposed that the most challenging moment throughout the entire year had been the sorting hat, knowing that her birth mother had been sorted into Ravenclaw while her father took on the role of a Slytherin. Her foster mother had also been a Ravenclaw, and the close tie that Meredith had to Andromeda continued to be the entire reason that the woman willingly accepted Maisie as her own, no questions asked. The threat that had been posed the moment her name was called showed through the immediate wide-eyed expressions she received when her surname registered completely in everyone's thought process. None of the contorted faces that ranged from horror to fascination would ever fall in comparison to the one she noticed sculpting on the blank, void face of Severus Snape. It was pain, undeniably so, in every single possible way.

"Such darkness looming in a single name... such _power._ Very intelligent for a young girl, just like your mother. The rage that you have created is concerning... so much bitterness roaming recklessly inside of your head, but your determination for revenge is all put in an effort for a personal emotion— a right mind indeed, very misunderstood. Your mouth is stinging with lies, a trait that seemed to come from your father... the only question is whether you will strive to be a leader or your own creation of originality? The cunning wit that you have ceases just sort of troubling for a Peverell. Though there is so much promise you could have in Ravenclaw, I see your future providing much success in _Slytherin_!""

Maisie's assortment into Slytherin only further alienated herself. While the house riveted in the sanction of having someone with powerful ancestors in their family, they also feared it. The Peverell line had been a prime diversity of witches and wizards for the longest of decades, and those in that line whom attended Hogwarts continued to confuse others with their delicate placements in the housings. While her great grandmother had been a Gryffindor and her grandfather a Hufflepuff, her permanent place was in the same house as her father, Tom Riddle, Severus Snape, and thousands of other dark beings that had found their intentions turning into an unrighteous evil. No matter the amount of satisfaction that she might have originally felt upon the sorting hat's first words, all of it began to matter less and less the more time she spent as a Slytherin and as a student of Hogwarts. The excitement that her foster mother had expressed she would have did not happen, and the blonde knew that it was because of the darkness that the household created. Even further than that, it was the darkness that Maisie Peverell felt in herself.

Thankfully on her part, her last name had not been the biggest news at Hogwarts. Even though she still gained looks from people, they didn't even begin to fall in the same section of discomfort as the ones Harry Potter received. He was the boy who lived, and no one was a match for that. His story, much like her own, was very simple to understand given the close relations that they shared. His parents, Lily and James Potter, both fell victim to the wrath Voldemort had, sacrificing their lives for the sake of protecting their son's. It was a tragedy, and the title that Harry received after it in the wizarding world was catastrophic. There were four sides that a person would want to be on when it came to Harry Potter: a friend, an enemy, a firm believer of his heroism, or a firm disbeliever of his actions. Maisie fell somewhere along the lines of a firm disbeliever, while the rest of her house became an enemy to him after he was greeted into Gryffindor with open arms instead of them. They were offended that the boy who lived, the infamous Harry Potter, had been so adamant against an entrance into a sea of serpents.

Her second year at Hogwarts was the first time that her name actually proved to be an imminent threat to her existence. Rumors began to circulate about who the heir of Slytherin was, and considering the placement of fingers could easily settle on those that have ancestors in the same house, Maisie became an immediate contender for the school. Along with the easiest accusations possible, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy stood alongside her in the race to see who would win. While Harry was an obvious jab given his ability to speak Parseltongue, Draco Malfoy had always been, somewhat, of a complication in everyone's lives. The boy had each and every characteristic that a Slytherin could possess, despite the moments where his cleverness fell short of greatness in the eyes of their professors, and it didn't take long for him to boast up to the title of being the heir. Unlike herself and Harry, Draco thrived in the attention that he was getting from the assumption. That had been the first time Maisie realized that Draco Malfoy was a person that she simply could not stand to be around, thus commencing the long-lasted feud between the two.

Maisie's third year at Hogwarts assembled the third crack in her foundation, in which the other two had been created by the deaths of her parents. The entirety of the wizarding world had fell into chaos upon finding out that Sirius Black, a supposedly known supporter of Voldemort, had escaped from the holding grounds for wizarding criminals, Azkaban. The news sparked interest, and the search for the man began that was lead by the guards of the prison— Dementors. The dark creatures, vile and viciously destructive, turned into one of Maisie's worst nightmares when she came in contact with one of them that year. There was a darkness about them, one that didn't just project into the hearts of others but could be consumed. Dementors did not care about the affects of their kiss, an action that could send the brightest of humans into a caved hole of unfathomable dread.

Maisie remembered the feeling of infestation inside of her body, the creature invading every ounce of joy, hope, peace... every ounce of _love_ that she had found herself expressing for thirteen years and ripping all of it away. It hadn't been a fast process; it wasn't a quick sensation of loss that some might believe it to be. It was slow. It was an unsettling decay that started in the brain and progressed through the entirety of one's body until it reached their heart. The Dementors were an evil that not even the strongest of wizards could evade, and it was the very reason why they were the guards of Azkaban. Not even the criminally insane could cope with the maddening sensation of absolute soullessness. Maisie, to this day, had not recovered completely from what the creatures took from her, and held onto the belief that she never would. The third crack in her foundation had been set, and the fourth year provided her with one much larger than she was ready to handle.

Maisie became an orphan the moment that Voldemort took every piece of her family that she had left. The Peverell line had always been grossly thin, and while the book of the family tree traced back to multiple different family lines being born from the Peverell's, only one had kept the surname; and, now, Maisie was the only living, and the last, Peverell to exist. There had been rumors surfacing around for the longest of times that a curse had been placed upon the family, all due to the tall tales told about the Deathly Hallows and Death's Daughter. If one were to look closely into the supporting evidence, the rumors would not be far from the truth. Maisie's ancestors had a pattern about each of their endings, one that continued to follow onto her own parents'.

The exponentially large family tree that they had, whether the descendants be male or female, was a tragic realization. Her father had been forced to live for eleven months without the love of his life, and his father had been forced to live twenty seven years without the woman he had been married to for fifty six, and Maisie's great grandmother had been directly next to her boyfriend, pregnant with his child, when a robbery took place and he fell victim. She had been forced to suffer through an entire lifetime without the love of her life, beginning at the age of eighteen and ending the moment that her son ended up with the same, tragic curse.

Now, Maisie was last on the list. The fifteen year old knew, now, that she should not have played the rumors off as a joke, and there had been a promise she made to herself the moment she realized what the curse brought that she would never fall in love. Giving her heart away to someone also meant giving them their death sentence, and the blonde would rather live in a lonely world as opposed to having only a few years with the person that she loved. It had been a near and dear promise, one of which she found herself breaking during her fourth year when she was old enough to grow attached to someone. It had not been love, Maisie still holding onto the truth that she had not yet reached the age where love was an emotion that she needed to understand how to feel, but it had been enough for the teenage girl to realize that the rumors circulating around the idea of a curse being placed on the Peverell family were not rumors at all.

Maisie's fourth year at Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory had taken notice to her. She was no longer in the awkward stage of puberty where her hair either looked flatter than a pancake or frizzier than a poodle, and whether that made her engaging to people or not would continue to remain unknown. The Quidditch star was gorgeous, and the fact that he was a Hufflepuff was something that she should have never messed with given her obtrusive state as a Slytherin. However, Cedric had done something that no one else at Hogwarts had attempted to do: he said, "Hello," and had introduced himself as someone Maisie would grow to trust, no question of whether or not she actually wanted his friendship. After months of throwing around her protests and his persistence, the two of them became friends. He was the one person that Maisie could go to, the one person that was able to decipher her thoughts unlike anyone else, and the one person that she had a true connection with. There was never a romantic interest between their friendship, or, at least, not one that had started developing. Maybe, had they been given more time, Maisie and Cedric would have been something.

The possibility of being something was what led the Cedric's finally play to the end of nothing. Maisie didn't know if her inability to love anyone, platonic or not, was what cost Cedric Diggory's life, or because the infamous Harry Potter had not done all that he possibly could to protect her only, and quite possibly best, friend. What she did know was that there was an emptiness inside of her, a piece that had grown hollow where Cedric's placement was supposed to be, and that was something that she realized was just as painful as a Dementor's kiss. It was something that made her nauseous when she woke up every day, forced to remember that there would not come a time when the teenage boy or her parents would magically appear in front of her. No matter how much power she had in the world, and no matter how desperate she was to bring them back to life, she was stuck in the consistent state between hell and just plain suffering. She knew that if she were ever to fall in love with someone, the state that she was tripping on a tightrope over, now, would be cut loose and she would fall deep into the oblivion of not knowing how to survive. The death of Cedric Diggory became her fourth crack in the foundation, and had changed the hues she painted herself with drastically.

It had been a year since she had last seen Hogwarts, and in that time, Maisie had come to the conclusion that she could not give anyone the chance to see her come back the same way that they saw her leave. The months that she spent locked up in her room, the inability to get out of bed because the idea of seeing people repulsed her, had been her route to recovery. Granted, after seeing all of the rubbish that _The Daily Prophet_ wrote about the incident with the Triwizard Tournament, a fire been lit inside of her. The blonde refused to stop what she had left of her life, knowing very well that Cedric would have found some way to use his death to convince her to keep going if he had still been with her. With that thought in mind, she made the decision to return to Hogwarts for a fifth year. What was once a shadow of pain and a prime representation of loss became the only thing left that Maisie had of her best friend. It was the only tie that she had to everyone she has ever loved and everyone she has ever lost; because of that, and no reason but, she stayed.

"It's quite rude to lock the door, you know." The sound of an incoming person had Maisie Peverell shooting her head up from where it was placed on the window out-looking the view of the train tracks, her eyes narrowing as her hand instinctively went to the wand that she kept in her jacket. Upon the realization of who it was, the blonde let out an exhale in exasperation before placing her hand back around her legs, the threat dismissed. Blaise Zabini was not someone that Maisie considered herself the best of friends with, but he wasn't someone that she was going to throw out. "Malfoy's been blabbering about you since you walked on this train."

"Malfoy's been blabbering about me since the moment I walked into Hogwarts," Maisie challenged in return, quirking an eyebrow his way as if she were waiting for him to oppose the statement. When his lip curled up in agreement, the boy took a seat across from her and remained still in that position. After a few minutes of musing silence, the teenage girl felt her jaw tighten in irritation, knowing very well that the Slytherin wouldn't be in this place if he didn't want something. "What are you doing in here?"

The teenage boy turned to look at her, a hint of mischief in his eyes that didn't settle well in her stomach. Blaise had always been reserved, and she had always understood to respect his privacy so long as he didn't try to push himself into her own. Out of everyone in their house, she would rather be stuck in a room with him, Theodore Nott, or Tracey Davis above anyone else. Maisie was on a mutual understanding with Blaise, Nott and her bonded over the fact that their fathers had both been on the wrong end of the war, and Tracey had become enough of a friend after four years spent together in the same dormitory. "Everyone is waiting to see you break, and considering you are a Slytherin, none of us want to watch that happen. The attention needs to remain on Potter, not you. He's the one that has to come back to all of the aftermath."

"Because my emotional trauma is obviously the worst thing that could ever happen to change the way people look at us," Maisie said, her voice calm despite the harsh intention that escaped through the lines of her words. When Blaise shifted uncomfortably, the blonde knew that she had done her job of reiterating the situation back to him and welcomed the victory with a smug smile. She was already well understanding of the fact that her house would disapprove of her actions had she continued to remain the depressed silhouette of a human being that she was at the end of year four. The blonde also knew that she didn't return back to her emotions because of Hogwarts, but because she knew that she couldn't live that way forever. "I don't hate you, Blaise, and I don't try to get on your bad side, but you need to grow a spine and stop being Malfoy's messenger boy every bloody time he calls you for help. It's honestly pitiful."

"I don't listen to Malfoy," Blaise protested with a slight snap in his tone, leaning forward with a sudden anger fuming in his eyes. It was one thing to offend a Slytherin, but it was a completely different accusation to call them a follower of another. They didn't strive to become a lapdog of a leader, but leaders themselves. Maisie was already well aware that Draco Malfoy had his own personal tag-team of idiots, Crabbe and Goyle finding a way to serve as annoying shadows lurking behind Malfoy everywhere he went. "I'm just making sure that you don't give us a reputation of being weak."

Maisie had not been intimidated in the slightest by the boy's frustration, only moving her body closer to him with the same, slight amusement shining deep in her blue eyes. His facade had not dropped, not even when she got close enough that she could see the his fingers inching slowly towards his own wand. She hadn't been concerned about Blaise being a threat, knowing very well that he wasn't the person to engage in a physical argument, especially against her. "You do a brilliant job of that all on your own, wouldn't you say?"

The teenage boy's ferocity was gone the moment she finished speaking, his eyes lifting in a weighted accomplishment as an actual smile crossed on his face. Maisie watched in confusion as Blaise lifted his body up to rest against the back of the seat, crossing his arms over his chest. She didn't let up from her tight posture, and only allowed herself to rack up thousands of questions that she filled her mind to the brink of curiosity with. He didn't have the type of poise to just let a situation go— reserved person or not, there was still the natural born thirst for power that he had inside of him that wouldn't just bow down to an argument, and against Maisie no less.

"Guess Parkinson was wrong," Blaise stated, genuinely pleased with being able to say that as he continued to give the blonde the same smile. When he noticed that she had not moved an inch, still guarded, the teenage boy let out a sigh. "We were all talking outside about you, and Pansy said that you shouldn't be in school if you are just going to walk around acting exactly like Potter is. Malfoy wanted to see if you would fight back against him, but we both know you'd kill him before he had a chance to ask even the slightest of what I did. It was either me or Davis. Tracey didn't want to do it, though."

"It's lovely to know you put in a valiant group effort."

Maisie didn't go on to say anymore, just allowed herself to relax slightly when she felt the train come to a stop. They had been on the train long enough for the blonde to know that it was finally time to get off, and that was reflected on her housemate's face as well. Blaise sent one last look her way, almost as if he were accepting her in a new light, before getting up and leaving her so that he could return to the rest of the Slytherin house. The moment that he was gone, door shut and all, the teenage girl let out the breath of air that she had been holding in, her hands gripping the sides of the cushioned seat as she tried to control the tears building up in her eyes. She had been expecting the topic of Cedric's death to come up, and no matter how much she wished that it wouldn't, it was an inevitable subject she was going to have to face. Even knowing that, and even knowing that she should have been more mentally prepared that she actually was, there was still a part of the blonde that screamed dismissively about returning to Hogwarts after everything that happened.

There were thousands of different stories involving what happened on the final day of the Triwizard Tournament, and thousands of different theories that people at the school began making given the fact that the story Harry Potter told did not make much sense at all. As mentioned multiple times in an attempt to get others to understand, Harry stated that Voldemort was back, lingering in the land of the living with a plan setting in motion. Cedric had been collateral damage lost because of his placement at the wrong place and the wrong time, and Maisie couldn't help but force herself to believe that it wasn't true. Had she believed it, that would mean the blonde was just subjecting her friend's death down to a sad, tragic situation where his life was nothing more than a pawn meant for Voldemort's greater destruction. Had she believed it, there would be no rage left inside of her that she directed Harry's way, and she would be left feeling horrible about blaming him for something he had no control over. Had she believed it, Maisie wasn't sure she could cope with the revelation of Voldemort returning while everyone who ever fell as an unwilling victim for his cause continued to reside in a graveyard, forgotten forever. That was not something she would accept.

Maisie cleared her throat, wiping her face clean so that there would be no trace of her dismay, knowing that she had already assured her house that she was at a stable capability. Now, she just had to prove it to everyone else. Standing up, the blonde made her way out into the thin corridor of the train, noticing that other students were already on their own way out. Just a few heads in front, Maisie caught sight of Harry Potter and his two sidekicks, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and tried desperately hard to control herself by clenching her hands into fists. There was an unfathomable amount of anger that she had towards Harry, and the reasoning behind it didn't revolve around what most others despised him for. There was already a ruling deep within the walls of Slytherin that all those in other houses were inferior, and despite how the teenage girl found that to be utterly untrue, she couldn't deny that their ruling about Harry Potter was also untrue. The heroic complex that he continued to show eventually grew tiring for all others at Hogwarts, mainly because they all knew that there would never come a day when his name did not directly correlate as 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' in every given circumstance. Maisie, however, had a feeling that it would not be the same this year.

Getting outside of the train, the blonde nearly stumbling on a Hufflepuff that was too engrossed in a conversation with her friend about an owl, Maisie felt someone come crashing into her shoulder and turned around in surprise. Originally, she had been prepared to snap at a younger student, only to realize by the bright blonde hair that the person possessed that it would be much smarter to just ignore the contact all together. Draco Malfoy barely acknowledged that he ran into her, his eyes set on the teenage boy that was a few feet in front of them both. She automatically knew that the git of a boy was going to stir up unnecessary conflict given the nature of the relationship he had with Harry. While most people just opted on either befriending the Gryffindor or avoiding him all together, Malfoy found that playing with the boy every possible chance proved more fun of a game.

Maisie's opinions on Malfoy stuck greatly to insults, and they were normally ones that she kept to herself. She learned after two years of fighting with the intolerable boy that he lived off the heat of an argument and thrived from the discomfort others had from his words. At the current point she was at in her life, the childish actions he flaunted around were the reason she decided to stop giving him the reaction that she had previously. He was a foolish heart at the most, one that lived off the darkest of accomplishments and took the title of a bully with the easiest of sinister smiles. The blonde didn't know if she had sympathy for him, aware that the relationship that he had with his father was the reason his intentions proved so cold, or she just felt pity. Even having lost both of her parents, she would rather live with the unknown fantasies and expectations inside her head of them as great people as opposed to them being alive to this day, running around with their dark arts contained deep within a mask of loyalty to the Ministry. Anyone with half of a consciousness could tell that Lucius Malfoy was not as understanding of a person, or a father, as he tried to convince people he was.

Her bright, blue eyes stayed intently on the scene happening in front of her, unaware that the students behind her were grumbling in the annoyance of her having stopped until they realized who they were grumbling at. Malfoy, along with Crabbe and Goyle sluggishly tailing behind him, neared in on Harry with such determination in his step. Maisie let her eyes narrow slightly, knowing that Malfoy was going to throw a comment about what happened last year in some way, shape, or form that would set off Harry. The only thing that she hoped he realized was that his usage of words better pertain fully around the teenage boy's actions instead of Cedric's; if they didn't, Maisie would have no regret showing him just how capable she truly was of a fight.

"I'm surprised the Ministry's still letting you walk around free. Better enjoy it while you can. I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it." Maisie had expected for Harry to react to Malfoy's words, but she hadn't expected for him to reach the same extent that she was willing to go. Harry lunged towards Malfoy the moment that the last word escaped from the Slytherin's mouth, only to be immediately held back by Ron Weasley. What had a smile falling on Maisie's face from far away was not the words that Malfoy said to Harry, but the way that the coward of a teenager jerked his body away as quickly as possible so not to damage his face. His words were barely audible as he sent Harry a last glare, turning around with his two ignorant friends at his side. "What'd I tell you? Complete nutter."

"Just stay away from me!" Harry snapped, shouting useless exclaims to a boy that didn't care in the slightest what came from his mouth. With his body still being held by Ron, Maisie watched as Harry aid his feet in another attempt forward. That was when she decided to move, noticing that the station had nearly completely filed out and she was just standing by herself, bag in hand and still in her muggle clothing.

As she walked forward, keeping her head down so that she didn't attract any unwanted attention by the three, she heard Ron speak words of comfort to his best friend that happened to coincide completely with what she felt like saying. "It's only Malfoy. What did you expect?"

 _Exactly that_ , Maisie thought with a roll of her eyes. She didn't bother looking back at the golden Gryffindor trio, knowing that she would regret it the moment she made eye contact with Harry. Instead, she kept up on her way to the carriages, wanting to get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible so that she didn't have to accidentally engage in a conversation with anyone. She could already see a few paces in front of her that Daphne Greengrass was falling in step with Tracey Davis, the two girls having been conjoined at the hip ever since the moment they met first year, and knew that she was going to be spending another year in a dormitory with girls that fashioned their lives on their beauty. The only bright side to the dormitory arrangements was that she didn't have to share a room with Pugface Parkinson, of whom couldn't manage breathing five seconds without attacking Malfoy's face.

Still, even knowing that she wasn't going to have to sleep in the same room as Parkinson, there was no overwhelming excitement that she had about being back. She didn't have friends, just others in her house that took pity upon her introverted status. She didn't like schooling, the lack of her thought process giving her one too many bad grades and rationalizing her incredible fear for the O.W.L.S. this year. She just didn't find the same appeal that others had when they walked into Hogwarts. She never had. There had been the upheld expectation that she would be an outgoing personality like her mother was up until her death, or had, at the very least, showed particular mischievous qualities like her father his sixth year. Maisie didn't know how to smile, though. Not truly. She didn't know what it felt like to have passion for something, she didn't know what it felt like to be undeniably happy that her insides warmed, she never had butterflies in her stomach. She had a stone for a heart, and couldn't help but blame Voldemort for turning her into that before she was ever truly born.

"You seem upset," a voice stated through the cool September air. Maisie turned around instinctively with tense shoulders, noticing that there was another blonde moving to the empty carriage that she had set out on going towards. Luna, or rather Loony, Lovegood was holding onto a necklace around her throat, something that Maisie noticed her doing last year when they shared Transfiguration together on occasion. The teenage girl was someone that people found themselves avoiding, but unlike the obvious reasons why like how they did with herself and Harry, most just feared the large expansion of Luna's mind. They feared it because it was unknown. Witches and wizards do not response well to oblivion. "Have the Nargles gotten to your things, as well?"

Maisie's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of Nargles. Even though she was fairly informed with magical creatures and the history of magic, she had never heard of the name before. Watching Luna, who wore a smile so easily it looked like she was floating on clouds, she found herself letting a question slip. "What are Nargles?"

"Terrible creatures," Luna stated, although the expression on her face contradicted her words. She swayed slightly, continuing to play around with the string that was hanging on her neck. After a few moments of narrowed glimpses, she realized that it was Butterbeer corks aligned on the thin string. "They've stolen my shoes, you know? My necklace keeps them away, though. I could make one for you, if you'd like, Maisie Peverell."

Maisie frowned at the request, looking at the necklace once more before shaking her head at the blonde. She could see why people changed Luna to Loony, but even with her sour state as a Slytherin, she couldn't help but feel envious of the girl. From what she had seen, it looked like Luna was completely incapable of possessing a negative thought inside of her mind. There was pure light, and it had Maisie wondering whether or not she would have been the one person that dared to befriend Loony Lovegood had she been sorted into Ravenclaw instead. The older that she got, the more curious she became about the Sorting Hat's choices; for the entirety of her summer, she raveled her brain with the lethal question, "What if?" and nearly sent herself into a spiraling state of lunacy. Unlike the insanity that people believed Luna had due to her difference, Maisie was believed to be dark because her route had yet to prove otherwise.

Before Maisie could properly decline the invitation of a necklace with words, she felt the air beside her grow cooler as a breeze crossed their paths. Her body twisted along with Luna's, and the two blondes were staring directly at a bony, unskinned creatures that looked like the ghostly cousin of a dragon. Luna had immediately reached to touch the creature, but Maisie just stood there in complete shock. She knew what they were, and she knew that the wizarding world perceived them to be omens of an unfortunate fate, but she hadn't been expecting to

them. "Luna, it's dangerous."

"I can assure you, Maisie Peverell. Thestrals are actually quite gentle creatures," Luna comforted without realizing that her words brought no comfort to the wavering blonde behind her. "It's rather sad that people are so afraid of them... much like you, wouldn't you say? I think he realizes you see him. Most people don't."

Maisie tried very hard to ignore the fact that even Luna Lovegood noticed that people were afraid of her because of her last name, but it still hit harder than she cared to admit. "I thought only people that have seen death are able to see Thestrals? That's what Hagrid told us in Care of Magical Creatures."

"Who have you watched die, Maisie Peverell?" Luna questioned, turning away from the Thestrals so that she could begin walking towards the carriage that the creatures were pulling. Maisie didn't move from the place she rooted herself in, swarmed in confusion. There wasn't any insinuation in Luna's words, but she hadn't even confirmed Maisie's question to be correct. All Luna did was ask out of curiosity. Before Maisie could even manage to walk over to Luna and tell her that she hadn't seen anyone die in her lifetime, the teenage girl was already answering herself. "I suppose you may be able to see the Thestrals because your ancestors are related to Death himself. Dad and I were curious about that... a rather unusual quality, but not bad."

Maisie looked at the Luna, her jaw clenched tightly with a surfacing annoyance. After four years at Hogwarts, the tales of the Deathly Hallows, The Peverell Brothers, and Death's Daughter continued to reek havoc upon her patience. It grew to the point where people would begin calling her 'Death's Daughter' behind her back, and ever since then, when people placed the tales in comparison to her life, irritation soon followed. "Those are just stories we heard when we were children. Death's Daughter doesn't exist, and Death was just a metaphor, Luna. You're idiotic if you choose to believe otherwise."

"If it were a metaphor, Maisie Peverell, why does Death greet you willingly?"

Luna's words rang in her ears, but she didn't bother replying to the girl. The last thing that she needed was to overthink the question. After a few moments of staring at Maisie with a smile, Luna loosened her hold on her necklace to reach and grab a hold of her magazine, barely noticing that she had it flipped in the opposite direction. It was only a few seconds later that Maisie finally remembered she had to get on a carriage to Hogwarts and reluctantly climbed into the one with Luna. Sitting down on the seat across from her, the teenage girl had the foolish hope that she would get lucky and no one else would sit in the carriage with them. That, however, had not gone according to plan and she whipped her head up when she heard the sound of footsteps.

It seemed like the Thestrals truly did carry an unnaturally minuscule amount of fortune because she was not feeling entirely fortunate when she noticed that Harry Potter, along with Hermione, Ron, and Neville Longbottom, was standing just a few inches away from the carriage. Much like she had been doing not three minutes ago, Harry could not tear his eyes away from the Thestral that was pulling them. To make the matters much worse, there was a tug in her stomach that had her wanting to lurch forward from nausea. Her circumstance was much different that Harry's because she did not know why she could see them, never having once remembered watching someone die right before her eyes. Harry, however, had to live with knowing that he could see the creatures because he had watched Cedric die right before his eyes; and, being aware that Harry was reminded of that brought a sick, twisted amount of satisfaction to her heart. If she could not forget, she would make sure that he didn't either.

"What is it?" Harry asked to his friends, unaware that he had an audience. His eyes just stayed on the Thestral, confused about why it looked so completely barren and broken.

Hermione, who had been watching the last carriage before their own roll away, turned her attention over to her friend. She noticed the way he was looking at the absent air almost instantly, and took a step forward in concern for Harry. "What's what?"

"That. Pulling the carriage," Harry stated, as though the creature in front of him was obvious to everyone else.

"Nothing's pulling the carriage, Harry," Hermione explained, her features wrinkling in confusion as she looked over at him as though he were insane. "It's pulling itself, like always."

Luna spoke up from her placement of reading, attracting eyes immediately. "You're not going mad. I can see them, too. You're just as sane as I am."

The four Gryffindors turned their heads at the sound of a stranger's voice, taking notice of Luna and Maisie. While Harry was completely clueless to the identity of the girl that spoke, he did know of the other blonde that was sitting across from her. Maisie Peverell was not someone he considered to be on good terms with, much like Draco Malfoy or Professor Snape. The only difference between the disliking the other two had of him and Maisie was that, while Malfoy and Snape publicly stated multiple times that they despised him, the expressions of dread that crossed over Peverell's face told him well enough that she did not enjoy his presence. The same thing happened the moment that he met eyes with her, feeling a lump form in his throat because he knew that she blamed him for what happened last year to her best friend. The worst part was that, in the end, Harry knew that her feelings towards him were not wronged. She had a reason to feel negatively towards him, and he knew that she would never let him forget it.

Hermione noticed the brutally awkward exchange made between the two and was quick to break it by placing her hand on Harry's shoulder and directing him towards the back of the carriage where Ron and Neville were already moving. When they all got positioned appropriately in their seats, everyone turned to look warily at Maisie. It was obvious by the way she shoved as much of herself against the side that she was uncomfortable, and had more than enough understandable excuses of why. Not only was she surrounded by people that were in the houses that Slytherin detested, but she was also surrounded by people that simply made her skin crawl. She had heard enough from Ron Weasley their second year when he had gone around telling everyone in his house that she gave off an aura of darkness, which she took with open arms after transfiguring her cat, Hex, into a rather large spider. Everyone knew that Weasley had the biggest phobia of the long-legged creatures, so playing around had been awfully amusing to watch for both herself and the other Slytherins.

There was little that she could say about Hermione Granger, mainly because the only time Maisie had ever spoken a full conversation with the girl had been when the Gryffindor insisted on correcting every little thing that she did. Granger thrived off of knowledge, and was a theory witch at heart, while Maisie was an impulsive one. She did so horribly in school because written tests had never been her style. The physical work of a wand or potions had always been what she was best at, and, had that been what the entirety of their grades were about, she would probably have better grades than Granger. It was practically a written statement to be annoyed at Hermione Granger, which happened to be the exact reason why she fit in so well with Weasley and Potter. Maisie didn't even give the curly-haired witch a glance as she kept her attention on the wand she had taken from her pocket to play with. Cedar and Dragon Heartstring. Thirteen and three quarters. Unyielding. Ollivander's description had never left her head.

"Everyone, this is Loony Love..." Hermione realized her mistake the moment it escaped her lips, stopping her attention to introduce the others to the blonde that they didn't know. Granger's slip-up had Maisie smirking, twirling her wand in her fingers because the golden girl was not so golden after all. The Slytherin glanced up from her Dragon Heartstring to see that Granger's face was flushed with embarrassment, and corrected herself a few seconds later. "Luna Lovegood."

"I'm surprised the righteous Gryffindors subject down to nicknames, Granger," Maisie said, raising her eyebrows once up and down with accusation. The smirk on her lips was still stretching, even despite the fact that she was sitting so close to Harry. The natural-born 'aura of darkness,' as Ron would say, was falling through her discomforted facade. "I expected more from you. How odd."

Hermione gave her a tight look that clearly stated she cared for Maisie as much as Maisie cared for her, but didn't act on the Slytherin's words. Instead, she turned her attention back over to Luna, who had finally put down her magazine. The first thing that she noticed was the way that the blonde was fingering the piece of jewelry wrapped around her neck, and sat up a bit straighter. "What an interesting necklace."

"It's a charm, actually. Keeps away the Nargles," Luna corrected, glancing down at it. Silence broke out in the carriage only a few seconds after, Maisie shifting around once again when Neville's stomach growled to the right of her. Luna looked at the boy with a smile. "Hungry? I hope there's pudding."

While Luna hoped that there would be pudding, Maisie hoped that there would be a way for her to go unnoticed by everyone for the entire year. Somehow, she knew that only one of them would get what they wanted, and considering her luck was progressively running out the closer she got to Hogwarts, she wasn't holding onto the belief that it would be her.

Already, Maisie Peverell was beginning to realize that the dark hues splattered in haphazard creation on her canvas were going to be tainted with a dark and disastrous crimson, and that the cracking foundation would be split directly down the middle before she finished the next three years at Hogwarts. Had someone come to question what foundation she was talking about, Death's newest Daughter would reveal her heart and disarm them the moment they witnessed the demolition; for Death's Daughter had not been created to survive with an organ so vital to life, and after so many years of holding one, she was slowly beginning to lose the emotions she craved from the beginning. Emotions were reckless, and Maisie Peverell was the one forced to fall victim to that destruction.

* * *

I hope you guys liked it! The first time I started this story, I had never gotten past the prologue so it feels great to break through that barrier and actually begin writing Maisie. As most of you can see, Maisie has a lot of issues. There are a lot of characteristics about her that I feel embody all of the houses, which I wanted to further project on by mentioning that her ancestors were all sorted into the four different houses. I'm so absolutely in love with Maisie's character because, even though she has a rage inside of her that I've grown used to writing, she's also a lot more demented and fractured than anyone else I've made. This chapter took twenty thousands years with all of the plotting I had to do in order to make sure everything fit, but I wanted it to be perfect. I _hope you guys liked it! It's not completely edited, but 8, 580 words just for you!_


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